


Time Again

by weonvu (genisaurion)



Category: SEVENTEEN (Band)
Genre: Am I Using Tags Correctly, Happy birthday Wonwoo!!!!!, Insecurity, M/M, Minor Choi Seungcheol | S.Coups/Yoon Jeonghan, Non-Linear Narrative, i guess a bit angsty but has a happy ending???!!!!!, mostly related to perceiving social relationships, one-sided narration, there is one super nondescript scene but otherwise this is pretty T
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-16
Updated: 2017-07-16
Packaged: 2018-12-02 13:05:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 11,862
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11510043
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/genisaurion/pseuds/weonvu
Summary: It doesn’t take a Ph.D. to fuck up a relationship, yet Wonwoo manages somehow. Thankfully, he’s got a good track record with fate, and a man he honestly does not deserve.





	Time Again

**Author's Note:**

> Happy birthday Wonwoo!!!!!!!
> 
> Hey everyone, I’m back. Briefly. I’ve got a lot of other stuff to do, but I needed a procrastination tool, anyway… Sorry I’ve been busy (I started graduate school… which is totally what inspired this fic. Except I’m studying public policy, not chemistry), but I’m trying my best to wrap other loose ends by the summer's end.
> 
> This story is written in both the present and the past. **I’ve used different line break symbols to denote these tense shifts (-- is before a past-tense section; ~~ is before a present-tense section)**. And to make it even more confusing… although most of the past is written linearly, it’s not all linear. Just keep that in mind (sorry).
> 
> Happy reading!

“Love?”

Junhui nodded at Wonwoo from across the table, though his gaze remained fixed upon the flask of bubbling chemicals.

“Yeah. That’s the right word in Korean, isn’t it? When two people—”

“No,” Wonwoo cut him off, “you were right. I understood.”

Of course he had heard Junhui the first time, knew well what his friend was asking. What he didn’t understand was why they needed to talk about this, unsolicited, while working on their lab assignment.

“So?”

“So…” Wonwoo pursed his lips. Years ago, maybe, he thought he wanted something long-term, something more than just casual dates or sex. Maybe it was still the case. Wonwoo no longer knew for sure.

“I don't know. Maybe it’s just not for me.”

 

\--

 

_I'm a doctor.  
_

He repeats it to himself in disbelief. Once, twice, and then once more with feeling.

It doesn’t feel real. He can’t believe it. He’s staring at himself in the mirror, and the Jeon Wonwoo he’s familiar with stares back at him, the same reflection he’s come to know.

Yet, the exhilaration he feels is proof enough. His ears are still ringing of his faculty advisor’s decision, the cheers from his colleagues when he left the examination room. Granted, he hasn’t formally graduated, but he isn’t dreaming, he’s really passed his dissertation defense. For all the work that he’s put into his chemistry Ph.D. over the last six years, he certainly doesn’t feel like a whole new person.

Maybe tonight it will hit him, Wonwoo muses. Maybe tonight, when he celebrates his accomplishment with his friends and colleagues, it will feel more real.

He’s only going to a local pub, yet he’s dressed to impress—perhaps not as formal as the suit he’d worn at his dissertation defense hours ago, but a dashing outfit nevertheless. His phone buzzes as he’s slipping into slim dark jeans and a cozy, navy blue sweater, though he doesn’t concern himself with the influx of text messages. Indeed, he’s running a bit late, and there’s no doubt in his mind the slew of messages are just people looking for him. He’s invited a handful of people, so he figures they can congregate and start at least for a little bit without him.

Wonwoo takes another look at his reflection. He looks good, or so he thinks. He definitely _looks_ like a new person, compared to when he first started graduate school, even if he doesn't yet feel it. He’s aged over the years, but in such a way that complements his features. In fact, his colleagues frequently compliment him for how youthful he looks. Granted, they often also say that with his looks he could win anyone’s heart, and… well…

_“Maybe it’s just not for me.”_

He still remembers that conversation with Junhui, one and a half years later—and not just because they had only barely managed to turn their experiment results to their professor on time. It’s not that his position has changed all that much: If Junhui asked him the same question today, he’d still probably give the same response. Now more than ever, though, when Wonwoo thinks about love, he thinks of intense eyes and a narrow jawline…

Wonwoo curses to himself. He knows he should text him… except…

He’s grateful for the distraction that graces him in the form of a phone call. Shelving his guilt, Wonwoo takes a brief glance at the caller id before picking up the line.

“Yeah, Mingyu, I know, I’m on my way.”

“Okay, okay! You better mean it!”

Mingyu is a student in the same program, though a year younger. Despite their age difference, they've developed a close relationship, often spending many hours in the lab together poring over ideas. Mingyu calls Wonwoo the ideal mentor, always providing helpful advice and a unique perspective; Wonwoo has only wished to spare Mingyu from his own graduate school hardships.

“I’d have thought being a doctor would make you more on time!”

“Shut up,” Wonwoo hisses. It’s familiar banter to him, and judging from the laughter on the other end Wonwoo is sure Mingyu knows it, too. “I'm hopping on the bus and will be there in ten.”

“Liar. I heard your keys jingling just now. I bet you only just left your house, am I right?”

“I.” Wonwoo stops, doesn’t even bother defending his lie. “Okay fine, fifteen. Start ordering without me!”

“Jihoon already has, don’t worry.”

Wonwoo laughs as he’s fastening the buttons on his coat. Jihoon is a student in his cohort, though he’s not scheduled to defend his dissertation for another month. Wonwoo suspects Jihoon is drinking tonight not only to celebrate Wonwoo’s success, but to also forget about his own upcoming deadlines. Now that he's successfully passed his defense, Wonwoo can hardly believe that it was only days ago that he’d been in that same place, stressing over the presentation of his results…

“I guess I’m just worried about anyone you’ve invited that I’ve never met. They probably won’t know to find our group.”

Wonwoo nods, then remembers he can’t be seen. “I’ve gotten a lot of texts. Unless they’re all from you. I think you should know most of the people coming, but if I've gotten messages from anyone you don’t know, I can tell them to find your group.”

“Or you could hurry your ass over here,” Mingyu offers. “I haven’t heard your door open yet, did you even leave your house?!”

Wonwoo rolls his eyes. Maybe he’s just misguided, but he suspects most other people don’t listen this closely to background noises during phone calls.

“Talking to you is slowing me down,” Wonwoo retorts. Though he’s only teasing, it ends up being a sufficient reason to wrap up the conversation. Talking with Mingyu has put him in cheery spirits, has reminded him he indeed has a huge fucking accomplishment worth celebrating, and he’s so excited that he almost forgets to check his texts as he’s promised his best friend.

As expected, he’s received messages from his parents, as well as some of his friends back home. Most of his notifications are greetings from Facebook: courtesy of Jihoon, who had posted a photo of him to commemorate the accomplishment.

However, one text in particular catches him by surprise, so much that he almost stumbles out the door.

 

 **From: the best bae**  
_Hey, Wonwoo! I saw you passed your dissertation, congrats!!_  
_I was thinking… it’s been a while since we’ve talked._  
_Are you free sometime?_

 

Wonwoo reads the words over and over again. Reads the name of the sender, over and over again. At first he laughs, remembering how stupid the name in his directory was and how it had even been saved in his phone in the first place.

Then, his mind begins to race with thoughts, faster even than the pace he’s walking. _Fuck_ , he curses to himself, as the memories start to resurface. The high he felt only moments ago fades. The message sounds pleasant, but Wonwoo knows it’s an attempt to tread carefully across broken glass. He thinks fate must be trying to reconnect them, as if having known Wonwoo’s thoughts had drifted in the direction just moments ago.

He starts typing his response, at first including only the usual formalities. _Thanks for the congratulations, it’s definitely been a while_ —but then in the spur of the moment, Wonwoo thinks that, despite his guilt, maybe they should meet tonight. He certainly owes the man that much, and Wonwoo can think of at least two friends who would agree.

 

 **To: the best bae  
** _Hey, thanks! A few friends and I are grabbing drinks tonight to celebrate. You should come._

 

And then, though he hesitates for a moment, Wonwoo hastily adds:

 

 **To: the best bae** _  
It’d be great to see you again_.

 

\--

 

Wonwoo first met Kwon Soonyoung about halfway through his first year of graduate school. Wonwoo had come along to a graduate student mixer with Choi Seungcheol, a student in the cohort one year above his. Truthfully, Wonwoo hadn’t really been interested in attending, but Seungcheol had insisted that he needed to meet other students at the university.

“You can’t go six years knowing only chemists,” Seungcheol had argued, and Wonwoo could not have disagreed with him there.

The experience was nearly as awkward for him as Wonwoo’s first academic conference just weeks before. Not really the time to show initiative in parties such as these, Wonwoo spent his time following Seungcheol around, waiting for an introduction only to engage in short-lived small talk. His only consolation was that, perhaps by nature of being an academic, nearly everyone he met was just as socially awkward as he was. The typical ice breaker was to talk about their research, but being only in his first year, Wonwoo found himself listening to ideas more than selling them.

“You seem uncomfortable,” Seungcheol noted. Wonwoo did not really think it would have taken a doctor to make that conclusion. “We don’t have to stay long. Let me just find Jeonghan for a bit.”

Wonwoo nodded, not bothering to follow after Seungcheol this time. Jeonghan was one of Seungcheol’s colleagues in the psychology department. He didn’t know the details of how they met, though he knew one detail too many about why they continued to meet.

Wonwoo exited the building, deciding to wait for Seungcheol outside. The venue—one of the finer halls, belonging to the school of business—was indeed grand, with high arches and impressive columns of marble, a feast for the eyes; yet the masses of people were too much for Wonwoo, and he had already resigned himself to calling it a night. As he looked onto the dimly lit night before him, he observed students stumbling down the streets, laughing amongst themselves. For a moment, his mind wandered: He asked himself, at what point would he make friends like that in this new city? Sure, he was here to get his Ph.D., but he couldn’t deny that he craved the company…

It was a thought Wonwoo entertained often, though only seemed to remember when the loneliness was most salient. He had left his family, many friends, even a well-paying job back at home—all to start this new chapter of his life, to work toward his next career goal. The first half-year had been good to him so far, but the atmosphere was definitely different. He had friends in his cohort, but Wonwoo always felt it was like stepping cautiously over broken glass, currying their favor all the while knowing they would one day be vying for similar jobs. Meeting guys was a whole other struggle, though Seungcheol apparently had managed. Most were either too young or only interested in sex, and while Wonwoo wasn’t opposed to the latter by principle alone, he couldn’t really say it aligned with his longer-term goals.

Not that he really knew what love was, anyway, or that love was something he could possibly have one day. But he yearned for that future nevertheless.

Lost in thought, it took a moment for Wonwoo to realize someone had slipped next to him. _Seungcheol, probably_ , Wonwoo told himself. He probably should not have assumed, should have at least checked before calling out his friend’s name—but he hadn’t, and the unfamiliar face he was met with caught him off guard.

“Hi,” the stranger greeted. “Pretty night, isn’t it?”

“Uh.” Wonwoo briefly examined his company. The man was about his height, maybe slightly shorter. Wonwoo’s eyes first noted the man’s bleached hair—Wonwoo thought it looked good on him, even though he wasn’t usually a fan of dyed hair—before they drifted to his sharp jawline. But then Wonwoo caught himself—the man before him was regarding him with a kind expression, and god only knew what sort of scrutinizing expression he was offering in return.

After recollecting himself, Wonwoo gave a stiff nod. “Very,” he said quietly.

“Mm. Almost as pretty as you.”

Wonwoo’s gaze snapped once more toward the stranger, who seemed amused by his reaction. The stranger’s appearance had almost been too timely. Wonwoo briefly wondered if this man could read his mind.

“I’m Soonyoung, by the way. Sorry that I'm not Seungcheol.”

“Wonwoo,” was the automatic reply. He questioned whether he should acknowledge the compliment. Hell, it was more than a compliment, Soonyoung had definitely flirted with him. But would calling out the game by name ruin the moment? Was he expected to play along? Figuring he’d gauge Soonyoung’s intentions, Wonwoo chose to engage in small talk, at least for a little while longer.

“So what’re you studying?” It was the overused ice breaker of the night, sure, but it worked.

“Oh, I’m not a student.”

Well. Wonwoo had not expected this much. Soonyoung seemed to be surprising him with each passing moment.

“I’m just here with a friend,” Soonyoung continued, perhaps sensing the confusion upon Wonwoo’s face. “He started his MBA just this year, but didn’t want to come to a party alone. So being the nice friend that I am, I offered to be his date.”

“That’s nice.” A pause. “Nice of you, I mean. To do that.”

Perhaps Wonwoo was reading too much between the lines, but Soonyoung’s wording seemed to suggest he and his friend were not actually dating—though, why the detail even concerned him, Wonwoo wasn’t sure. So maybe he was a little interested, sure, but that was definitely him getting ahead of himself.

“I run a dance studio downtown,” Soonyoung explained further, extending a hand. Wonwoo extended his as well, instinctively, though it wasn’t until he felt a card pressed into his hand did he realize what he’d committed to. “Do you dance? You should swing by sometime.”

“I… not really.” He danced, a little, but not regularly or often enough for the public to see. And certainly not enough for Soonyoung to find him impressive.

“That’s fine. We have lessons! First one is free.”

Wonwoo wasn’t sure, but he could have sworn Soonyoung had thrown a wink in there, too.

“I’ll consider it. Your number’s on here, right? I’ll give you a call, for sure.”

Soonyoung nodded, grinning widely. For a moment Wonwoo found it endearing. Then, he thought he was cute. Then, he cursed himself for letting his mind wander. He really had been single for far too long.

In the moments that followed, Wonwoo explained his own background. How he had worked in a research lab immediately following his graduation, and how he had been motivated to get his Ph.D. in chemistry. Soonyoung had called his ambitions sexy, and Wonwoo was thankful for the darkness of the evening. Wonwoo found himself surprisingly engaged in their conversation, even though he had failed to sustain other conversations many times earlier that evening. Perhaps it was because Soonyoung wasn’t an academic, and did not have the same expectations as others had. When Wonwoo tried to skirt around his lack of accomplishments, Soonyoung insisted that it was nothing to be ashamed of.

“You probably wouldn’t need this degree if you could be a rock star in just one semester,” Soonyoung reasoned, and Wonwoo found himself floored from how true the statement rang.

He wasn’t sure how much time had passed in Soonyoung’s presence—maybe an hour, maybe more? —but only when he felt his phone ringing did he remember why he’d stepped outside in the first place. Excusing himself from his conversation, Wonwoo checked his caller id before picking up the call.

“Seungcheol?”

“Hey,” came the response. Wonwoo frowned immediately. Seungcheol’s response had been very short, very much out-of-breath, very…

Not long after, a moan filled Wonwoo’s ears, followed by a hushed “Shit, just wait, I’m almost done.”

Wonwoo sighed loudly, rolling his eyes. It didn’t take a doctor to discern what he’d just overheard.

“Busy?” Wonwoo asked, though he already knew the answer.

“A bit. Hey, I… I know you wanted to head out early. Would you be okay leaving without me?”

Wonwoo rolled his eyes again. He should have known this would happen, from the moment Seungcheol set out to find Jeonghan.

“That’s fine.” And without giving Seungcheol the chance to reply, Wonwoo cut the line. He pocketed his phone, closed his eyes, and let out a soft sigh. He wasn’t mad. Just annoyed. Annoyed that he’d been ditched, but also annoyed at the reminder that he was alone in a new city—

“Everything okay?”

Wonwoo opened his eyes, turning to the voice. Right, Soonyoung, he’d forgotten for a moment. At first, Wonwoo motioned a nod, but then decided against his instinct. For being a complete stranger, Soonyoung had left a good impression on him, and it wasn’t like Wonwoo would be forced to see him again if he happened to overuse the man’s kindness. So Wonwoo confided in Soonyoung, recounting how he had been brought to the party by his colleague who had just ditched him for a one night stand.

“Want company, then?” Soonyoung offered, without missing a beat, after Wonwoo had finished. Wonwoo’s breath caught in his throat. “Your friend is a dick, by the way.”

“He’s fine most of the time,” Wonwoo said solemnly. He considered Soonyoung’s offer for a moment. On the one hand, he was mad at Seungcheol, if only impulsively. But he knew Seungcheol was also right, he really did need friends outside the chemistry department.

“But what about your friend? Would he mind?”

“Seokmin?” Soonyoung asked. Wonwoo shrugged, unsure of the man’s name, but nodded under the presumption they were talking about the same person. “He’s my roommate, but he won’t mind. We have this agreement that as long as the kitchen’s clean by the end of each night, we can do whatever. Besides, I’m positive he’d love to meet a new friend, so it’ll be cool. I bet he’s itching to ditch this place soon, too.”

Wonwoo nodded slowly, his eyes turning to the streets in front of them once more. Being with Soonyoung would surely be better than walking home by himself. It was a tempting offer.

“…but no pressure, though,” Soonyoung added hastily. Wonwoo turned to Soonyoung and noted the worried expression upon his face. This man really could be charming at times. Certainly, he had not warranted the worry—though, maybe Wonwoo had come across as uncomfortable in the moment…

“You’re fine,” Wonwoo assured Soonyoung. He smiled softly as he nodded, pocketing the card Soonyoung had given him before. “I guess I’ll give you a chance, Soonyoung. Wanna get going?”

 

~~

 

It’s twenty minutes—not fifteen, not ten—when Wonwoo finally arrives at the pub. He’s graced with a sea of friendly familiar faces, and his ears are filled with both vibrant cheers and even wolf whistles.

But no Soonyoung. Even though Wonwoo had only texted him the location just minutes ago, before having hopped off the bus. Still, Wonwoo’s heart sinks ever so slightly.

Wonwoo takes a brief look around the table Mingyu’s gotten them. Mingyu is the most animated of his friends, of course, though they’re all a good bunch. Seungcheol is there, too. At first, Wonwoo had been both surprised at and resistant to the idea of Seungcheol taking off work (from his new job!) just to attend his far more inferior dissertation defense, but in hindsight Wonwoo is grateful. Celebrating like this, with both Seungcheol and Mingyu—Wonwoo feels like he’s the link to some unspoken legacy of their lab. Sometime next year, maybe they’d all return to celebrate Mingyu’s success.

Next to Seungcheol is Jihoon, already nursing a beer in his hand. He gives Wonwoo a lopsided grin, leading Wonwoo to wonder just how many Jihoon has already had. Next to him is Minghao, who's in Mingyu’s cohort, though admittedly Wonwoo does not know him as well. Beside Minghao is Junhui, who _does_ know Minghao well, and had given his own defense not even two weeks prior. They share knowing grins with each other: it feels nice to be on the other side, Wonwoo thinks to himself.

“Sit down and grab a drink, already!” Mingyu exclaims, rising from his seat to pat Wonwoo on the back. Wonwoo laughs and lets Mingyu take the lead. He’s ushered into a seat between Mingyu and Hansol, a first-year. For some reason, Hansol preferred the company of the older students in the program over his own cohort members, not that Wonwoo had any complaints.

The scene that plays before him is quite familiar, though he hasn't before been the center of attention. Mingyu and Seungcheol are fighting to pay for Wonwoo’s first drink; Hansol and Minghao pester him with a slew of questions about how he feels post-defense; Junhui overuses the title _Dr. Jeon Wonwoo_ , which incites a load of embarrassment on his part.

“Stop, I’m not qualified enough yet,” Wonwoo protests weakly, though none of his friends seem to be having it.

“Shut up, you just passed your dissertation, you’re a fucking doctor!”

Wonwoo winces, but gives up his defensive stance anyway. The banter around him fades for a bit. They think so highly of him, feel proud on his behalf… but only that morning had Wonwoo also been one of them. Self-doubting, insecure, striving to create an identity. Should he be so different now, just because of one accomplishment?

 _Maybe a little_ , Wonwoo admits. But he certainly doesn’t feel he deserves all the praise he’s received. It makes him uncomfortable—but more than anything, it makes him miss Soonyoung.

 

\--

 

Nine months had passed, and Wonwoo still had not called Soonyoung.

It wasn’t like he hadn’t wanted to, or least not initially. Wonwoo had spent a week trying to _find_ Soonyoung’s card (to no avail), and another week thinking about how to even start a conversation (in case he somehow found the card). And then by that point… well, Wonwoo was certain that Soonyoung would have forgotten about him, or at the very least show no more interest in talking to him. Not to mention, with first-year qualifying exams around the corner, the intention had frequently slipped past his own mind, as well.

But exams had come and gone—Wonwoo passed, thank the heavens—and a new year had begun once more. Wonwoo wasn’t sure how he felt about no longer being the ‘youngest’ in their program, and he often tried to ignore the fact that some of the first-year doctoral students were now looking up to him as role models. Kim Mingyu was no exception, and despite Wonwoo’s best efforts to steer him toward Seungcheol’s direction instead (who was _clearly_ more qualified than he was), Mingyu stubbornly stuck to his side.

“You were so much cooler on the phone before I met you,” Mingyu huffed— _God_ , Wonwoo thought to himself, _why was he pouting?_ —and only then was Wonwoo reminded of curious yet narrow eyes, sharp jawline, kind expression…

Soonyoung had to have hated his guts by this point, if he hadn’t from the start—and quickly Wonwoo found himself entertaining thoughts of old, remembering the source of his inaction in the first place. Yet, perhaps from the passing of time, his few memories of Soonyoung were fonder, and Wonwoo found himself longing for them more than he had before.

That night, Wonwoo had plundered his entire apartment looking for the business card Soonyoung had once left him. He’d checked every coat and pant pocket, every abandoned wallet he had ever used… he’d even checked under his pillow.

Nothing.

Cursing loudly, Wonwoo collapsed onto his bed, ignoring the blanket of clothes he’d thrown upon it earlier than evening, in his desperation. Wonwoo's heart sank: he'd missed his opportunity. Yet as he shut his eyes, groaned into the silence of his room, his mind continued to race with thoughts, leads and dead ends alike. There had to be some other way to reach out to him, if Wonwoo only looked hard enough…

 

~~

 

After a while—specifically, after Wonwoo’s been ordered three drinks, none of which he’s paid for—Seungcheol decides to call everyone's attention. Raising his glass, he starts a toast to Wonwoo, which is followed by triumphant cheering from his colleagues. Wonwoo raises his own glass reluctantly, and the only thing he finds more embarrassing than being the center of attention is that Seungcheol insists everyone go around and share their favorite memory of Wonwoo.

"God, no," Wonwoo protests weakly, though no one heeds him. It turns out to not suck as much as Wonwoo had thought, though. Minghao starts, offering an anecdote of his prospective visit to the university. Apparently, Minghao had sat in on Wonwoo giving a guest lecture for an undergraduate organic chemistry course, and oblivious to the situation, Wonwoo had called on him to answer a question.

"He got it right, anyway!" Wonwoo exclaims in his defense. "And besides, I was just glad someone actually knew what was going on."

Seungcheol shares a story of a time during Wonwoo's first year, when Wonwoo had set the fire alarms off. ("And who thought it was a good idea to give this guy a degree, again?" Junhui roars, and though Wonwoo is still embarrassed he can't help but to laugh, too.) Jihoon's story is also in the spirit of embarrassment, recounting the time Wonwoo had sent a personal email to Professor Lim Jihye, instead of Lee Jihoon. Junhui tells a similar story: the time during their second year, when Wonwoo had spent an entire month agonizing over sending a professor an email. Apparently, their professor had sent a reply within five minutes.

"To think he waited a whole month!" Junhui says louder, stressing the point.

"Asking for a reference letter can be stressful, okay?" Wonwoo snaps, though the moment he notices Junhui's face light up he regrets adding the snark.

"True. It's taken you much longer to reply to people before."

Mingyu decides to take his turn, before Wonwoo can declare Junhui's comment a low blow. Mingyu tells the group the story of their first interaction, how Wonwoo had texted him out of the blue while he was still deliberating between programs to enroll in.

“He knew my friend Seokmin, apparently, though I never did find out how,” Mingyu says. “Wonwoo, how did you meet Seokmin, again?”

Wonwoo purses his lips, briefly, and takes a look around the pub. Soonyoung isn’t there yet, it seems.

“Oh. Uh, he was Soonyoung’s roommate,” Wonwoo says, nodding. Seokmin was certainly not a name he'd heard in a while. “The very first day he met me, he had been asking me a lot of questions about my life. Apparently he was asking because he knew Mingyu was interested in our school? I guess he felt bad for it later, because he kept apologizing. So I offered to reach out to Mingyu directly, as a way of making peace. Not that… not that I’m only friends with Mingyu out of obligation,” Wonwoo adds hastily, as Mingyu begins clicking his tongue.

“I thought we had something special going on,” Mingyu retorts. Wonwoo can see past the man’s act, though. Mingyu’s expression, the tone of his voice, all far too dramatic. He rolls his eyes, cracks a smile, then turns to Hansol, who declares the both of them crazy yet admirable before taking his turn.

 

\--

 

 _Mingyu_.

The thought only dawned upon Wonwoo after several night’s rest, when Mingyu had bounded toward him within minutes of arriving at the lab.

Mingyu knew Seokmin, and Seokmin knew Soonyoung… if he worked through Mingyu, maybe he could get in touch with Soonyoung once more.

“Have you seen Seokmin since you moved out here?” Wonwoo blurted out, before Mingyu had the chance to share whatever it was he needed Wonwoo for.

Mingyu shook his head, tilting his head in confusion. And rightly so—Wonwoo had given him no context.

“Good morning to you, too? And no, I haven't. Why?”

Wonwoo pursed his lips, thinking over his words carefully. “I dunno, I was just thinking about him the other day. And Seungcheol always says it's nice to have friends outside the program, you know? We should hang out with him sometime.” If Wonwoo was lucky, Seokmin and Soonyoung would still be roommates. If he were lucky, they could all hang out with Seokmin at his apartment. If he were lucky, Soonyoung would walk in on them…

And as it turned out, Wonwoo had struck luckier than he expected. Mingyu had agreed to reaching out, Seokmin had enthusiastically accepted, and Seokmin had offered to host. He and Soonyoung were even still roommates, as his luck would have it. The only problem, really, had been…

“He went home to visit his family,” Seokmin explained, after ushering Wonwoo and Mingyu into the all too familiar apartment. _So Soonyoung wasn't home._ For how smooth his plan had been, Wonwoo couldn’t help but to feel a bit disappointed.

“Do you have his number?”

“I… think, maybe? But maybe I should grab it from you, just in case.”

That was how, after a fun evening of drinking (Mingyu drank the most bottles) and cards (Seokmin won the most games), Wonwoo found himself curled up in his bed, phone in his hands, thumb hovering over the send button.

Wonwoo was back at square one, no matter how he looked at it. Sure, this time he actually had Soonyoung's number— but how was he supposed to begin? He was back to staring at his bedroom ceiling finding some other way to reach Soonyoung, because apparently he hadn't yet overcome the anxiety of sending the first text. He wondered if Seokmin had told Soonyoung about their encounter, wondered if Soonyoung would even care. If he’d been smart about it, he would have left his number with Seokmin too, so that Soonyoung could reach out to him first.

_Now what?_

 

~~

 

It’s just after Hansol is finished sharing his first-year experiences that Wonwoo’s phone vibrates in his pocket. At first he ignores it, passing it off as another congratulatory text—but then it pulses again, and Wonwoo suspects it must be a phone call. He excuses himself from the table and heads for the door to take the call, ignoring Mingyu’s suspicious glances when he does a double take at the caller id.

“Hello?”

“Hey.”

It’s Soonyoung’s voice, though it doesn’t come from his phone. Wonwoo glances to his left and, true to his instincts, finds Soonyoung leaning against the wall. His breath catches, his heart races.

“I saw you in there but didn’t want to intrude on your table. Seemed more fitting to introduce me, rather than just show up, so I was gonna ask if you could come out? But then you came out anyway.”

Wonwoo registers how long Soonyoung’s eyes linger on him, wonders if Soonyoung notices how he's looking at Soonyoung in much of the same way. Wonwoo has hardly the attention to give an appropriate response. Soonyoung is just as beautiful as he remembers him being: inquisitive yet kind eyes, sharp jawline, slim wrists, long fingers— _shit_ , Wonwoo curses under his breath as Soonyoung turns to him, his gaze caught by the white shirt that exposes too much of the man’s chest and collarbones, the subtle curves of Soonyoung body…

A warm hand against his cheek rouses him from his thoughts. His body tenses, then leans into the touch.

“At least try to pretend like you didn’t miss me?” Soonyoung teases, smile growing wider when he elicits from Wonwoo a healthy blush. Soonyoung’s smile is just as contagious as Wonwoo remembers it. Tonight, Soonyoung’s hair is black, which is perhaps the most natural Wonwoo has ever seen it. Wonwoo thinks black suits Soonyoung, but then again, he’s said the same thing about every other color of hair Soonyoung has ever sported.

“Anyway,” Soonyoung continues, “congrats again, Dr. Jeon.”

A pass at normalcy, save maybe the hand still cupping his cheek.

“Feel any different?”

“Not really, if I’m being honest,” Wonwoo admits. It feels too natural, to the point Wonwoo has to remind himself that many things have changed since then.

 _Say sorry already, you idiot_.

“Reminds me a bit of birthdays,” Soonyoung muses. “We celebrate the milestone, but it’s more about the process of getting there, right?”

Wonwoo nods stiffly. The air between them feels thick, distracting. Their closeness masks the elephant in the room, the unspoken question both men continue to dance around. If Wonwoo had his way, he would not dare start that conversation. But the look in Soonyoung’s eye tells him that even after all these years, he’s been waiting for this moment—and Wonwoo knows he has to say something, before the moment escapes them…

“Anyway,” Soonyoung is saying, and his thumb brushes against Wonwoo’s lower lip before pulling away. “I won’t call you doctor if it makes you uncomfortable. I’m just glad you let me come tonight.”

 _Fuck_. Wonwoo feels like someone has just dropped a brick in his stomach. He needed to say something, anything.

“Hey,” Wonwoo begins, but Soonyoung shakes his head, cuts him off before he can even attempt some kind of apology.

“Later. We’re here to celebrate you, remember? We… we can try fixing our mistakes later.”

 _Our_ mistakes.

Wonwoo bites his lip, runs his tongue against the spot that continues to burn from Soonyoung’s touch. He knows full well that only drunkenness and raw feelings await them at the end of the night. Yet there’s promise in Soonyoung’s words, and Wonwoo misses the feeling of Soonyoung’s hand in his too much. So, he buries his doubts and surrenders to his impulses, and to Soonyoung.

 

\--

 

It wasn’t until one week later when Wonwoo received his answer, with the unexpected help of Wen Junhui.

“I’ve got a dance lesson at 7,” Junhui informed him, after Wonwoo had proposed a time to work on their lab assignment. “Can we work on it after? If you meet me at my studio, I can drive both of us to uni?”

Four hours and a nondescript street address later, Wonwoo found himself in front of a brick building. The first thing to catch Wonwoo’s eye was the studio’s hours of operation: never had he seen a business open ten minutes after ten, rather than opening on the hour. The second thing to distract Wonwoo’s attention was the name of the studio: it seemed familiar, in an eerie sort of way…

But the pieces only clicked together when it wasn’t Junhui, but _Soonyoung_ , who exited the building to meet him.

“You’re…” Soonyoung began, and Wonwoo could only nod. He was pretty sure he was gaping with his mouth open, but he was too busy processing his luck. This time, Soonyoung’s hair was orange—and damn, did Wonwoo think that color suited Soonyoung well. (The sleeveless, sweat-drenched shirt Soonyoung wore was a welcome addition, for sure.)

“Shit, it’s been a while, hey. Didn’t expect to run into you here.”

“Sorry,” Wonwoo said, bowing his head apologetically. He decided to not reveal his numerous, failed attempts at contacting Soonyoung. “Lost your number.”

“Heard you were looking for me, though?” said Soonyoung, grinning when Wonwoo’s head snapped up in both surprise and embarrassment. “But maybe I should give you my number, for next time?”

“Yeah, good call.” Wonwoo pulled out his phone, making sure to delete the number Seokmin had given him, before handing it off to Soonyoung. The alibi was too good to pass up, and Soonyoung didn't seem to be on the impression that Seokmin had already given him his number. Wonwoo had been so rapt in the moment, watching Soonyoung punch in his number with the widest grin, that he hadn’t even noticed Junhui slip beside him, nor had he noticed the puzzled expression Junhui was giving him. Junhui had apologized for his tardiness, questioned whether Wonwoo and Soonyoung knew each other from somewhere—but Wonwoo acknowledged none of his words.

Thankfully, Soonyoung was more than capable in the moment for the both of them.

“You’ll text me tonight, yeah?” Soonyoung teased, smiling when Wonwoo only nodded without budging, despite Junhui’s best efforts to drag him toward his car. For once in his life, Wonwoo knew better than to wait and overthink this. He didn’t even wait for later in the evening, choosing to ignore Junhui’s questions during the car ride to send Soonyoung texts instead.

 

 **To: the best bae**  
_Hey_

 **From: the best bae** _  
New number, who dis?_

 

Wonwoo blinked in his confusion, both at how rapidly Soonyoung had sent his reply, but also at the name Soonyoung chose to list himself as in his phone. Soonyoung was best bae, apparently.

 

 **To: the best bae**  
_Wonwoo?_  
_You literally just gave me your number_

 **From: the best bae**  
_So you’re not the cute girl I met at the bar last night?  
Eh w/e you’ll do ;) _

 

Wonwoo rolled his eyes, and shook his head. He certainly deserved the response, if he were being honest with himself. Soonyoung certainly texted a lot, too: even as Wonwoo was trying to punch out a reply, Soonyoung was already firing at him more messages to respond to.

 

 **From: the best bae**  
_Wait I’m just kidding!!_  
_Dude I swear, if you’re not gonna text me for another year I will_  
_I will something just watch_

 **To: the best bae**  
_Chill, man, I won’t  
Although, I’m really not the cute girl, I hope that’s okay_

 **From: the best bae**  
_I will ask Seokmin to ask your friend where you live!_  
_Oh, ok, nvm were good hi :)_  
_It’s ok, you’re cuter than her anyway._

 

“You guys better fucking date some day, I swear to god,” Junhui spat at his friend, hardly surprised when Wonwoo chose to grin at his phone instead of defending himself. Perhaps their encounter was not by chance at all, and that this had been life’s little way of setting Wonwoo back on track—and if that were the case, then he could certainly endure being the butt of Soonyoung’s teasing for a little while.

 

\--

 

“Not for you?” Junhui repeated, tearing his eyes away from their experiment for a brief moment. Wonwoo wished their eyes hadn’t met—but they had, and he knew without question that Junhui was not convinced by his answer.

“What about Soonyoung? Hadn’t you two hit it off so well?”

“That was one time,” Wonwoo countered. A lie, of course. One time in front of Junhui, perhaps. But it had definitely been much more than a one-time meeting. So much more.

“Besides, it probably won’t work out.”

“Why not, though?” challenged Junhui. Wonwoo hated how intense, how stubborn Junhui could be sometimes, especially when calling people out on their excuses. And as much as Wonwoo didn’t want to admit it… it really was just excuses on his part. “He talks about you, you know. Whenever someone does something, he’s always like ‘wow my friend Wonwoo is like that, too!’”

Wonwoo’s chest began to race.

“That’s…”

“Painstakingly cute? Yeah, I know. His whole dance studio has to know you by now, I'm sure. And you think that can’t be love?”

Junhui gave Wonwoo one last look before turning his attention back to the chemicals, making sure nothing had gone wrong. Wonwoo watched with only half attention, the gears in his mind beginning to turn.

“Does he… still talk about me like that?” Wonwoo asked quietly, just barely audible over the crackling of the burner.

_After walking out of his life. After not responding to any of his texts._

Junhui raised a brow at Wonwoo, before offering a nod.

“Of course,” he said solemnly. “Though if you’re so concerned… maybe you should text him yourself.”

 

~~

 

Wonwoo doesn’t really think too much of his entrance at first, except maybe the sparing glances he receives upon his return. Hand still in Soonyoung’s, Wonwoo shows Soonyoung off to each of his friends in turn. It feels weird at first, because he isn’t quite sure how he’s supposed to introduce Soonyoung. An old friend? An ex? —but Soonyoung spares Wonwoo the trouble, settling with “a friend of a friend of Mingyu’s.”

“Our friend, too!” Junhui and Minghao cry out indignantly. Wonwoo had known about Junhui, but supposes Minghao must go to Soonyoung’s studio, too. Wonwoo tenses a bit after that thought, wonders how much Minghao has heard about him from Soonyoung, if anything Junhui has told him before were really true. Not that Wonwoo hasn’t said his fair share about Soonyoung, accidentally or not.

It isn’t until well after they’re seated, however, that Wonwoo actually stops to think about the impression he’s giving his friends. At first, he catches Seungcheol’s eye, and he doesn’t understand why Seungcheol looks so pleased with himself. In fact, it’s only when Wonwoo spots Mingyu’s narrowly focused glare that he finally remembers to let go of Soonyoung’s hand. And while he hadn’t introduced Soonyoung to his friends as an individual of particular interest, he knows Mingyu and Junhui are both trying hard to read between the lines.

“ _What’s up with you two_?” Mingyu mouths silently at Wonwoo, when he knows Soonyoung isn’t looking. From across the table, Junhui catches their eye.

 _Everyone thinks we’re seeing each other_.

Wonwoo doesn’t say the words aloud, though he’s sure everyone in the room has assumed this much anyway. He spares Soonyoung a look, who seems quite animated in his conversation with Hansol, and Minghao. He then turns to Mingyu and Junhui and offers them both a defeated shrug.

 

\--

 

At first, his friendship with Soonyoung had progressed slowly. Soonyoung was lovely, and Wonwoo was tired of being alone. What Wonwoo had not been prepared for, however was how Soonyoung would not stop flirting with him—offhandedly at that, played off as innocuous comments or jest, even though Wonwoo was certain each brush of their hands, each compliment had been fully intentional. Sure, Wonwoo had known from the very first day that Soonyoung could be flirty, though he was hardly prepared for just how many buttons Soonyoung would be willing to push.

He tried asking Soonyoung about it once (in a totally roundabout fashion, at that), although the response received had only provoked him further.

 

 **From: the best bae**  
_Mmmm maybe I like sending mixed signals ;)_

 

And wasn’t that nothing but the truth. Just the other day, Soonyoung had called him handsome. The week prior, beautiful. Wonwoo was flattered, but also frustrated, and no amount of evening prayers to the gods of attraction seemed to be making this any easier for him. If he were being honest with himself, Wonwoo would have said he wished Soonyoung would just ask him out outright.

Or, maybe that was exactly the outcome Soonyoung was gunning for…?

Wonwoo groaned in frustration, not that there was anyone to hear him. This wasn’t something he was used to feeling, and it certainly was infinitely better than pessimistically browsing dating apps. But the rules of attraction were complex, and without anyone to confide in Wonwoo had no idea if he was even going about it the right way.

Briefly, Wonwoo wondered if he, too, was sending Soonyoung mixed signals. Truthfully, given it wasn’t his intent, Wonwoo would be surprised if Soonyoung was picking up on signals at all. But maybe that was the real problem here, that Wonwoo had not called Soonyoung _fucking cute_ for each time Soonyoung had dropped a compliment. Because hell, did he want to.

 

 **To: the best bae**  
_I guess two can play that game?_

 **From: the best bae**  
_I’ll believe it when I see it, lover boy._

 

Lover boy. Wonwoo repeated the nickname to himself aloud. Soonyoung really knew how to push his buttons, without pulling any punches. He wasn’t sure what he had been thinking in his reply, though if there was one thing he was for sure thinking about now, it was that there was a game he now needed to learn how to play.

  
_I hope YouTube has tutorials for this_ , Wonwoo mused.

 

~~

 

On normal days, Wonwoo would be hunched in front of his computer at this hour, revising his manuscript based on his advisor’s feedback. But he supposes that today is not one of those days, and that drinking with friends well past midnight could be forgiven.

There’s only a handful of them left, now: Besides himself, it’s Mingyu, Soonyoung, Minghao, and Junhui. Wonwoo is surprisingly sober, or at least he thinks, for having not paid for a single drink that evening. It’s a considerable feat given his current company. Junhui’s barely managing to keep his head up, often resigning to resting his chin on Minghao’s shoulder.

“Is he that gone?” Soonyoung asks Minghao in earnest, nodding to Junhui, to which Minghao merely shrugs.

“He’s like that when he’s sober, too. It’s hard to tell.”

The conversations are easier to maintain, given the smaller group. The questions feel more natural, more substantive. Wonwoo can actually hear Soonyoung’s responses to Minghao’s questions now, over the buzz of other conversations ongoing at the pub. Though, Wonwoo thinks part of it might also be their proximity, as Soonyoung’s leaning against Wonwoo considerably more often than he had been earlier in the evening.

“’Re you guys dating yet,” Junhui slurs at some point, and Wonwoo immediately feels his chest beating faster. He knows Soonyoung is looking at him, and he doesn’t dare turn to see his expression. Soonyoung has already saved him once this evening.

“Right now… we’re not, no,” Wonwoo settles, perhaps after too long of a pause. For what it’s worth, it’s the truth, even though the suspicious glance Mingyu yet again gives him suggests he’s not convincing. But in all his inebriation, Junhui buys the response.

“Well, you should,” Junhui states, setting his glass onto the table with a little too much force. “He’s cute as heck.”

Wonwoo nearly drops his drink, sputters a mouthful of beer. Soonyoung, on the other hand, laughs heartily, throwing a jest back Junhui’s way. Thankfully, Mingyu hands Wonwoo a napkin, because he's too busy staring at the side of Soonyoung’s face. Soonyoung had played it off so well, but Wonwoo isn’t convinced.

“You’ve still got some,” Mingyu mumbles, dabbing the corner of Wonwoo’s lips for him, since Wonwoo seems to have forgotten all about his accident. Wonwoo doesn’t hear him, though he does mumble a quiet _thanks_. It’s as though Wonwoo is momentarily paralyzed from his confusion. He’s certain Soonyoung can’t possibly have taken Junhui’s suggestion that lightly, not when… not after…

_Why doesn’t he hate me…?_

 

\--

 

Wonwoo did not take the next step until near the end of his year was near its completion, and it had only happened because the opportunity happened to present itself.

 

 **From: the best bae**  
_I’ve got tix to a dance-off next weekend. Wanna come?_

 

Wonwoo had agreed, obviously, even though he had a six-page paper due the following Monday. His levels of stress were at its highest, and perhaps for the first portion of the night he regretted taking the break. But he also knew he _needed_ the distraction, and he could never say no to time with Soonyoung.

And that man… well. He was certainly the distraction, Wonwoo had thought to himself many times, but more than ever was the thought salient tonight. He was going to watch Soonyoung dance, competitively, and though he had not yet taken him up on the free dance lessons, Wonwoo had certainly thought about, many times, what Soonyoung must look like dancing.

But the real thing? Wonwoo was left breathless. Soonyoung’s movements were fluid yet sharp, filled with passion, perfectly in sync with the accompaniment. Wonwoo couldn’t believe someone could dance _this_ well—watching him had Wonwoo sitting at the edge of his seat, cheering him on alongside the crowd whenever Soonyoung pulled off an impressive move…

When the performance ended, Wonwoo was up on his feet, clapping and whistling vigorously. And when Soonyoung spotted him in the audience, when he gave Wonwoo his flashiest, most elated smile— _fuck_ , Wonwoo’s chest swelled at the thought of Soonyoung smiling, _for him_.

“You were incredible,” Wonwoo whispered to Soonyoung moments later, when he returned to the bleachers, and for the first time in his knowing him, Wonwoo witnesses Soonyoung blush.

They watched the remaining performances together in silence. Wonwoo could tell Soonyoung was restless, nervous, even without looking his way. Competitive dancing wasn’t his universe, yet Wonwoo could only imagine what could be running through Soonyoung’s mind as he witnessed performance after performance. Likely, wondering if this performance could be good enough to cost him first place.

Without really thinking, Wonwoo slipped his hand in Soonyoung’s. He didn’t dare to look Soonyoung’s way—he could feel the heat rising in his own face—but after feeling Soonyoung silently squeeze his hand, Wonwoo was sure he had made the right move.

If anything, the reassurance only made him all the more courageous. Truth be told, Wonwoo had only intended to hug Soonyoung, in the moment Soonyoung was declared the winner of the competition. But something about the disbelief, the shock, the _elation_ on Soonyoung’s face, coupled with his own impulses, left Wonwoo yearning for more. So when Soonyoung had pulled away from the hug, Wonwoo pulled him in, and though neither man had hardly a breath left in him their lips somehow managed to find each other.

When the two finally separated—after minutes that felt like eternity—they shared a laugh, a knowing look. “Did you just…” Soonyoung began, and Wonwoo could only nod, out of breath. “You fucking sap.”

They would talk later, or so was the unspoken plan. Wonwoo suspected Soonyoung knew his feelings well anyway, even if he had been terrible at conveying them. But all of that was irrelevant in the moment—and judging from Soonyoung’s smile that mirrored the brightness of his own, Wonwoo suspected Soonyoung felt the same.

 

~~

 

Wonwoo knows he should have seen this confrontation coming. Yet somehow, it still takes him by surprise when, after Soonyoung’s gotten up to use the bathroom, Mingyu turns on him.

“I don’t buy it,” Mingyu hisses, even though they both know Soonyoung is far out of earshot.

Wonwoo glances nervously at Minghao and Junhui. They both appear uninterested in what either of them have to say. Or, well, Junhui is busy reciting the latest Twice single, and Minghao seems to understand it’s a conversation he shouldn’t be eavesdropping in.

“Don’t buy what?”

Mingyu glares at him, sighing in exasperation. “He… you… what is he doing here? What are you guys doing?”

“He’s here for the same reason you are,” Wonwoo counters, eyes narrowing at his friend. “And we’re just talking.”

“Have you guys made up?” Mingyu persists, frown deepening when Wonwoo shakes his head. Wonwoo knows why Mingyu’s holding on to his suspicions, though. It doesn’t help that even he doesn’t believe the words coming out of his own mouth. He doesn’t dare ask, but Wonwoo is willing to bet Minghao doesn’t buy his words, either. But where Mingyu’s really come from is a night where Wonwoo bore to him his worst self, revealed truths contradictory to Wonwoo’s present claims.

“I just, don’t want to see you cry over him again,” Mingyu says quietly. Wonwoo thinks he has more to say, but before he can pry, he feels Soonyoung’s hand on his shoulder. Mingyu’s gaze finally leaves him, and Wonwoo’s left with the weight of his best friend’s words and the overdue explanation he should have given a long time ago.

“Everyone okay?” Soonyoung’s speaking mostly to Junhui, who seems to have finally passed out. But primed by Mingyu’s own cautionary words, Wonwoo internalizes it.

 _Is_ he okay? Wonwoo asks himself. But he isn’t sure. Just that morning, with a dissertation defense to prepare for, Soonyoung hadn’t even once crossed his mind. Yet here he was now, fumbling through his feelings, without so much of a warning except a few text messages…

“I’m okay,” Wonwoo says weakly.

 

\--

 

“You should talk to Jeonghan.”

“What?”

They had just attended Jisoo’s practice defense, though Wonwoo felt almost as though he had been the one defending. Even just with his peers, with no professors present, Wonwoo had felt the pressure Jisoo was facing, found himself shaking in nervousness alongside his colleague. Because fuck, if Jisoo was freaking out about this, what more for himself when he’d be in his shoes next year—

“Well,” Seungcheol began, placing a hand on Wonwoo’s shoulder, “you seem stressed, and Jeonghan is pretty good with that kind of stuff. Plus, he has a master’s in counseling.”

“O…okay.” Wonwoo wasn’t sure where this was going. Seungcheol was the type to look after everyone else in the program, sure, but the explanation still felt lackluster. Wonwoo suspected there had to be a deeper motive. “I might be a little worked up. But isn’t that why we go sparring every week?”

“That’s different,” Seungcheol insisted. He sighed, bowing his head as his voice dropped to a whisper. “Listen… someone told me a thing—”

“Junhui,” Wonwoo guessed, and Seungcheol could hardly conceal his surprise. “That shit.”

“I made him tell me,” Seungcheol said quickly, “so please don’t be mad at him? I asked him if he knew what was up with you, and he said you might be having relationship problems.”

“ _Relationship_ problems?" Wonwoo bellowed. "I’m not dating Soonyoung!”

In the silence that followed, it occurred to Wonwoo that he may have protested a little too loudly. He was fortunate that Junhui had left the room, but Jisoo, Jihoon, and Mingyu had all turned, giving him peculiar and questioning looks. Cursing his luck, Wonwoo smiled sheepishly at his colleagues before ushering Seungcheol out of the room, face a hot, healthy red.

“ _Fine_ ,” Wonwoo said, ignoring the triumph that passed over Seungcheol’s face. “Fine. I’ll go see him. Just… _please_ don’t tell anyone else about this.”

 

\--

 

Wonwoo learned a lot about Soonyoung during his third year, in more ways than one.

He came to know Soonyoung’s mind. Endless conversations, both over text and late-night phone calls, filled with Soonyoung’s thoughts. Soonyoung was straightforward, yet he was far from simple-minded. Wonwoo found it easy to crave that sort of company.

He came to know Soonyoung’s eyes. Always watching him, whenever they spent time together. “You,” was always the answer Soonyoung supplied whenever Wonwoo asked. Soonyoung’s gaze was kind, yet filled with passion and interest, and Wonwoo found it reassuring enough to simply be in his company.

He came to know Soonyoung’s lips. Wonwoo found them distracting, his gaze always dropping, his thoughts always rampant with desires to kiss him until their lips bruised. But he never needed to make the first move, because somehow Soonyoung always knew when to press his lips against Wonwoo’s. And god did he crave the taste, the feel of Soonyoung’s soft yet full lips, to the point it pained Wonwoo to say goodbye to Soonyoung’s company.

He came to know Soonyoung’s hands. Not only in the way they fitted against his own, in the darkness of his living room as they watched the television together; but also in the way they pressed against his chest, or slipped around his neck, whenever Soonyoung kissed him a certain way. Soonyoung’s hands were always warm: a reminder of how lonely Wonwoo had been before meeting Soonyoung, how much he _needed_ Soonyoung’s company.

He came to know Soonyoung’s heart. Wonwoo didn’t need to press his hand against Soonyoung’s chest to realize how fast Soonyoung’s heart was racing, each time they pulled away from a kiss, or each time they came to the conclusion of a date. Wonwoo was sure Soonyoung knew his heart as well—he certainly felt as though it were the case, because with each parting Wonwoo’s chest was heavy. Each time he walked himself home, he asked himself whether it was more than just the company, but a very specific desire for a very specific person.

He came to know Soonyoung’s body. The first time, it had been accidental, in which making out on the couch had become a little too heated. The second time, however, and every time after that, had been full with intention: Wonwoo knew their relationship was much more than sex, but he couldn’t deny that Soonyoung sometimes made him feel a certain kind of way, could never say no each time Soonyoung had asked whether it was okay to take the next step.

He thought he knew Soonyoung. He thought he was happy, thought they were okay. But such a mentality could not last forever.

 

~~

 

The moment of truth arrives quicker than Wonwoo expects. Before he realizes it, it’s already two in the morning, Minghao had gone to take Junhui home, and Mingyu knew better than to overstay his welcome.

“Text me after,” he whispers to Wonwoo in passing, before turning to Soonyoung. “Say hey to Seokmin for me, won’t you?”

“I will,” Soonyoung reassures him.

And then, at last, it’s just the two of them.

 

\--

 

“Relax,” Jeonghan cooed, “I won’t eat you, hun.”

Wonwoo thought he knew why Seungcheol had made him talk to Jeonghan, and even before meeting for lunch he’d decided to not say a word. But Wonwoo found it hard to not relax in Jeonghan’s presence: his expression was soft, without judgment. Wonwoo had never really spent time alone with Jeonghan before, but it didn’t take long for him to realize that Jeonghan gave the same vibe as Soonyoung.

Not even ten minutes after they’d sat down, Wonwoo caved in. Jeonghan was a neutral player in this anyway, Wonwoo had reasoned later, in hindsight. Besides, he had already fucked up with Soonyoung. There was no lower point than where he already was.

“We got into a fight,” Wonwoo began. His hands were in his lap, gaze focused at the napkins on their table. “Or, well, I guess it was a fight. I was working on my dissertation proposal and got really stressed out. He tried to comfort me, and I got mad at him for it.”

“Do you remember why?” Joenghan asked, his voice soft.

Wonwoo nodded, keeping his head slightly bowed. “Normally, Soonyoung is really good about not judging me. Actually, scratch that, he’s fucking perfect.” He laughed, mostly at himself. “But I guess… that night, he was trying to talk me off a cliff, and I’d accused him of bullshit. He… he thinks really highly of me, even if he doesn’t always say it, but he’s also not in any of the circles I have to face at school—”

“So you questioned his credibility,” Jeonghan offered, and Wonwoo shrugged. The words he used that night had been far harsher, but the essence was about correct.

“It’s hard to believe in yourself when you’re always surrounded by people who perform just as well as you do, if not better. And when the encouragement comes from someone outside that environment… Yeah. I was unreasonably angry, though. He didn’t deserve it.”

Wonwoo paused for a moment, letting out a heavy sigh. Jeonghan remained silent, although Wonwoo was sure the man was still watching him intently. His fingers curled into fists as he remembered what had come next. If their fight had only been related to Wonwoo’s work, Wonwoo was sure that he’d have been able to get over this. Yet…

“He said that to me, though. That he wished I would believe in myself a little more, than I could the same amazing guy he saw in me. And then I…” Wonwoo lifted his head, finding consolation in Jeonghan’s expression. “…I said I didn’t believe he thought of me as an amazing guy. Asked him to tell me what he really thought about… about us.”

“Do you remember what had triggered that reaction?”

Wonwoo nodded again. “I mean… It seemed too good to be true?—Soonyoung, I mean. I didn’t understand what someone as amazing as him could see in someone like me.”

“Probably similar to what you see in him?” 

Wonwoo’s eyes widened, briefly, as he registered Jeonghan’s words. He hadn’t quite thought of it like that.

“There’s more,” said Wonwoo. “When I said that to him, he turned the question back against me. I think it’s the first time he’s ever yelled at me, honestly. He said I was the one who needed to be honest about how I felt about us, because apparently he was always the one initiating everything we did together.”

“Do you think he’s right?” asked Jeonghan. In the moment, Wonwoo had stormed out of the apartment, had blindly convinced himself that Soonyoung was wrong. But if Wonwoo were being honest with himself?

“He was right,” Wonwoo muttered. Wonwoo could list off on his ten fingers each thing he had initiated himself. Their first text—and even that one had been delayed because of his fears and inaction—their first kiss… maybe something else…

“You know what sucks the most, though?” Wonwoo continued. “I still can’t text him. Even after being accused of never initiating anything, I still can’t fucking text him an apology.”

“That’s normal, though,” said Jeonghan, a small frown seated upon his lips. “People often procrastinate, or even choose inaction, when faced with a decision with high deliberation costs.”

“Come again?”

But Jeonghan only laughed, waved a hand as he shook his head.

“Never mind, that’s all behavioral psychology jargon for ‘it’s difficult, so we spend too much time thinking and not enough time acting.’ But don’t let that validate what you do moving forward, Wonwoo. How long ago was this, again?”

“Six months,” admitted Wonwoo. Six months of owing Soonyoung an apology, but only offering silence. “I’m a shitty person.”

“But he waits for you anyway, no?”

Wonwoo pursed his lips. “I doubt it.”

“You won’t know until you try texting him?—I know, a million and one people have probably told you that already, but I really think you should.”

“Three,” corrected Wonwoo. Mingyu, because Wonwoo had crashed his apartment immediately after the argument, and had even cried in front of him; Junhui, because he’d found out from Soonyoung, somehow; and Seungcheol, because Junhui had slipped. And, well, now Jeonghan, too.

“Hey,” began Jeonghan, at the same time Wonwoo opened his mouth to suggest placing their order; “can I ask you, then? What _do_ you think about you and Soonyoung?”

Wonwoo already knew his response. It wasn’t as though he’d spent nearly every night thinking about it.

“If there’s anything left of us,” he began, “I’d say it—Soonyoung—means hell of a lot to me.”

“Good. Wonwoo, promise me one day, you’ll tell him that.”

 

~~

 

If Wonwoo’s learned anything from Jeonghan, it’s not deliberation costs and inaction and shit, even though he doesn’t doubt for a second that Jeonghan’s correctly analyzed the situation to the tee. What he does know, though, is that two years had been way too long to give Soonyoung a response, and if Soonyoung ever forgave him for this then he’d officially be the world’s most patient and kind human being in the world who Wonwoo absolutely does not deserve.

Turns out, that’s exactly the kind of man Soonyoung is, and it only makes Wonwoo hurt all the more. When Wonwoo finally has the courage to blurt out “Soonyoung, I’m so sorry,” he expects to be yelled at, reprimanded, or told that he was wrong and stupid. Hell, he’d have been okay if Soonyoung had slapped him. What he doesn’t expect is to be hugged, to be given an apology in return.

“Me, too,” Soonyoung whispers. “I’m sorry too, Wonwoo.”

For a fleeting moment, Wonwoo experiences the insecurities of his past. Soonyoung is a fucking gift from god, and Wonwoo has no idea what Soonyoung even has to apologize for. The _Why Me_ question echoes in the back of his head, because he still can’t believe why someone with tangible passions, a secure job, would wait for someone who couldn’t even trust himself.

“Don’t say sorry, you did nothing wrong,” Wonwoo assures him, holding him closer. Their chests press against each other, and Wonwoo feels the familiar beat of Soonyoung’s heart. His own beats in sync, just as quickly, just as strongly.

They decide to move the conversation to Wonwoo’s apartment. Hunched side-by-side, talking over tea, Wonwoo is honest not only with Soonyoung, but himself. It’s not the first time Wonwoo comes clean about his insecurities, but this time he says it to the man he should have confided in all this time. The man he should have kept by his side.

When he thinks he has no more words to offer, Soonyoung places a comforting hand on his thigh. Wonwoo’s body tenses up; his heart, struggling to break free from his chest.

“Why don’t you hate me?” Wonwoo asks for probably the tenth time that evening, though it’s the first time he hears it with his own voice. He sounds tired. He _is_ tired.

“I could never hate you,” Soonyoung replies. His fingers tap a slow rhythm against Wonwoo’s knee. “Mad? Yeah. Frustrated? A bit. But I made mistakes too, didn’t I? You ran out on me, but it’s not like I tried fixing this, either.”

“That was on me,” Wonwoo offers, but Soonyoung shakes his head, squeezing his knee gently.

“There are two people in a relationship, aren’t there? It absolutely should not be on just one person. So please stop thinking that.”

“Okay.” Wonwoo nods, staring perhaps a little too intensely at his cup of tea. It's not a satisfactory response, but he doesn't want to push on it. His not texting Soonyoung hadn't been his only fault, after all. “Hey… Soonyoung?"

"Yeah?"

Wonwoo pursed his lips. "About why we fought. You know, it’s not like I didn’t want to initiate anything with you, Soonyoung. I loved spending time with you. You knew that, right? It was just… easier, because you were always planning things, and it always felt natural to follow along with what made you happy.”

“I know.” The hand on Wonwoo’s knee leaves him, causing Wonwoo to look up. Soonyoung’s expression is unreadable, but Wonwoo thinks there might be a hint of regret. “I'm sorry for yelling at you, that night. Thinking about it ever since, I don't think I was really as bothered about it as I thought. I never brought it up with you before because I knew you were busy. From the very beginning, I had kinda always known that you weren't the type of guy to make plans, especially if you happened to have a lot on your plate. Truth be told, I was just glad you kept saying yes. It’s actually kind of funny, now that we’re being honest with each other. My biggest thing was why someone as accomplished as yourself was wasting his time with someone like me, who was content in life just running his own dance studio.”

Wonwoo does laugh, though Soonyoung looks at him as if he hadn’t expected him to.  
Two men, each fighting his own battles, two sides to the same coin.

“I’d argue you’ve accomplished more than I have, and that you're the one who should be wasting his time with someone like me,” Wonwoo counters, but Soonyoung waves him off.

“Well, I'd argue you're wrong. But if it’s all the same to you, I’m willing to forgive the past and start anew, if you are? But... no pressure, though.”

Wonwoo doesn’t answer immediately, even though he already knows his answer. He can’t help but to reflect upon how reminiscent this feels to their very first meeting. Had he not accepted Soonyoung’s company that night, when Seungcheol had ditched him for Jeonghan…

“Wonwoo?”

…would they have found themselves here, time and time again?

“Yes,” Wonwoo tells Soonyoung, and himself. He’s not sure why, but given his track record with fate… somehow he really does think that they would have found their way here eventually.

“Of course I’ll give us another chance.”

 

~~

 

 **From: Mingyu**  
_The fuck dude you never texted me  
Did everything go okay last night?_

 **From: Mingyu**  
_??????  
Are you ignoring me? _

**From: Mingyu**  
_If you don’t answer I’m gonna come over to check on you_  
_so you better answer dude_

 **To: Mingyu**  
_Hey, sorry. Woke up late.  
I’m fine. We’re fine. We made up._

 **From: Mingyu**  
_Ok good just checking_ :) _  
_

**To: Mingyu**  
_Soonyoung wants me to tell you that I misspelled ‘made out’  
Also please don’t come over we’re busy_

 **From: Mingyu**  
_did you really have to tell me that  
i’m happy for you tho_

 

~~

 

It’s not perfect, Wonwoo thinks, and he knows not all scars heal overnight. In the midst of making new memories, they talk about a lot of things over the following weeks. Expectations of each other, expectations for themselves. And it takes some time to get used to, too. Wonwoo is hardest on himself, has to be reminded to forgive himself. But Wonwoo knows it’s a start toward a healthier relationship—and fate always did have a funny way of bringing the two of them back together.

And to have yet another chance with Soonyoung, despite all his mistakes—Wonwoo realizes what he’s willing to set aside, realizes who he absolutely wants to keep at his side.

 

~~

 

It’s the night before Wonwoo’s graduation—his last milestone, the true marker of being a doctor—and he’s in Soonyoung’s apartment, trying on various outfits for the big day.

“I’m just going to be wearing robes over this,” he says with a laugh. He feigns exasperation, rolls his eyes playfully when Soonyoung holds up yet another tie against his neck. “You will literally be the only one who’ll know what I’m wearing.”

“Is it wrong to want a well-dressed boyfriend?” Soonyoung asks, shaking his head when he disapproves of the color contrast.

“You just wanted an excuse to dress me up, I bet,” Wonwoo teases, and Soonyoung only shrugs and smiles sheepishly in response.

“The nicer you look, the more fun it’ll be to undress you after?”

“Tease,” Wonwoo scoffs, scrunching his lips into a playful pout as Soonyoung leans in to kiss him.

“Do I hear you complaining?” Soonyoung quips, mumbling against Wonwoo’s lips as he presses a finger against his chest. Wonwoo, of course, insists his remarks are anything but a complaint, and he proves it in the way he kisses Soonyoung back, the way his fingers tease the softness of Soonyoung’s skin. Perhaps predictably, Wonwoo’s outfit finds itself abandoned on the floor, along with his self-restraint.

Later in the night, when Soonyoung is curled comfortably against his side, Wonwoo asks, as he’s staring into the emptiness of the ceiling above him.

“What made you do it? That night when you texted me?”

Soonyoung grunts tiredly, then chuckles into Wonwoo’s chest in amusement.

“If you really must know. A little bird had told me that it might be a good opportunity to make amends.”

“Junhui?” Wonwoo guesses. Soonyoung doesn’t deny it, only presses a soft kiss against Wonwoo’s shoulder. “That shit.”

 

~~

 

Maybe this is what love really is, Wonwoo thinks, as he watches Soonyoung smiling and waving at him from his seat the audience, while he’s on stage about to be hooded. Even from his distance, Soonyoung radiates as brightly as the sun. Soonyoung is the light Wonwoo wants, doesn’t deserve, but is happy to guide his way forward.

Maybe he is capable of having love, after all. Maybe love is what they’ve had all along.

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> 1\. I suck at endings.  
> 2\. I don’t know how I feel about the second half of this story, especially the confession scene. It feels short, but I also felt like I was dragging it out.... meh. But it’s written and it’s over and I don’t have the time/energy anymore to think of how to change it. (Have to write my qualifying exam!!!!) But I hope you still enjoyed it.  
> 3\. I'm a public policy grad student, not a chem student, so I'm sorry if I horribly mis-characterized chemistry graduate programs...  
> 4\. [twitter](https://twitter.com/alolarcanine)/[tumblr](http://weonvu.tumblr.com/)


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